Henbit and Her Sisters

By Marty Donnellan

Protected by the hawk Tegera, frendibles are small creatures who live in the woods, meadows and thickets of the southern U.S. Henbit is a bossy, opinionated pine frendible with two bratty younger sisters, Cloudberry and Sweetflag. Her world is turned upside down when Cloudberry disappears. Henbit, who has never left the forest either, sets out to find her. She expects Tegera’s help, but the hawk, too, has vanished. With no other options, Henbit is forced to rely on prank-loving Sweetflag. Soon she discovers that not only are both sisters’ lives at stake, but the existence of all frendibles is jeopardized. As Henbit journeys to new places, meets new friends and faces new enemies, her assumptions about life and love are put to the test. "Henbit and Her Sisters" is Book One of "The Forest of the Frendibles" series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marty Donnellan
• Release date: May 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310399886

Marty Donnellan

Marty Donnellan is a lifelong resident of Atlanta, GA, USA. She is a writer and illustrator, doll maker, skater and skating teacher, nursing home art teacher, grain growing enthusiast and founder/director of Joy Community Kitchen, Inc., a 501(c)3 non-profit food charity. She is the author of seven books. Four are stories set in the imaginary world of frendibles, two are non-fiction "how-to" manuals (teaching doll making and roller skating), and the latest is a cozy mystery.

Book preview

Henbit and Her Sisters

Book One

The Forest of the Frendibles

Cover and Text by

Marty Donnellan

Published by Pine Cone Press at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 Marty Donnellan

All rights reserved.

Other Books by Marty Donnellan

Henbit and the Roly Poly

Henbit and Maypop

Mountain City Murder, a Hannah Scrabble Cozy Mystery

Thursday Mystery, a Hannah Scrabble Cozy Novelette

Non-Fiction

Teach Someone to Roller Skate – Even Yourself!

Cloth Characters, a Book of Doll Patterns and Ideas

CHAPTER 1

Sweetflag plopped down at the base of the eating rock. It was August in the southern pine forest, muggy and so hot that even the talkative crows had gone silent.

Like all frendibles including her oldest sister Henbit, Sweetflag was about the size of a baking potato, with a large head, big eyes that were both wondering and skeptical, and short arms and legs. But Sweetflag was thinner than Henbit, had considerably more freckles, and grew browner in the summer. This was due to spending more time outside in general, and in the tops of pine trees in particular.

Sneezing, Sweetflag wiped her hands on her grimy shorts, then on her stained T-shirt. Through untrimmed brown bangs she watched Henbit peeling vegetables for lunch.

Carrots again, she grumbled. Always the same old thing.

Henbit adjusted her dark tweed suit over her thick middle. If you don’t like them, why don’t you get us something better to eat? Fresh minnows from the river might be nice.

Or clams. I like clams, their friend Pokeweed drawled. Pokeweed was lying on his back, his thumbs hooked behind his suspenders, gazing up through pine branches at the hazy summer sky. The top of his prematurely balding head glistened with sweat.

Dang these gnats, he added with a lazy swat.

Me, I’d like a nice big bowl of roly polies, Sweetflag said, watching Henbit expectantly. She giggled at her sister’s involuntary shudder, and sneezed again.

Henbit pointed a carrot at her. It’s all that running around barefoot. I told you it would make you sick.

Sweetflag wiggled her bare brown toes in defiance. "It’s just a little cold, Hennie, no big – ah-choo!"

Pokeweed’s best friend Bog Bilberry had ambled up the thickly forested hillside. It’s this heat, it’s getting to all of us, he joined in.

Henbit jumped. Bog! You startled me!

Bog Bilberry gave Sweetflag a wink, which caused Henbit to color. Lifting a suspender from his shoulder, he used it to wipe the sweat from his neck.

I bet even Tegera is hot, flying around up yonder. Hey. Anyone seen the hawk lately? It ain’t like him to stay away so long.

Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him, either. Henbit frowned, trying to remember the last time she had seen the beautiful red-tailed hawk circling above the treetops. Tegera had always watched over the pine forest and its creatures, always been there. Now his absence seemed troubling.

Maybe he’s checking on other frendibles, Sweetflag said, wiping her nose. We’re not the only ones, you know.

Bog Bilberry grinned. Now there’s a thought. Wouldn’t it be fun to meet summa them meadow frendibles someday?

I’ve heard they’re pretty wild, Henbit said darkly. Anyway, I’m sure Tegera will be back in time for the fall council. He’s never missed that.

While Henbit was speaking, her younger sister Cloudberry emerged from the entrance of the winding underground burrow the frendibles called home. The entrance was little more than a hole formed by the upturned roots of an old, toppled pine surrounded on three sides by uneven slabs of rock. Their quarters below were decorated according to each frendible’s taste, but Tegera had warned them to keep the entrance unmarked and unimproved in order to avoid detection by humans.

So far they had been lucky; for though they occasionally stumbled upon evidence of past human activity in the woods – shards of glass, rusted nails, spent bullets, an old can or penny or nickel – no one had ever seen one of the gigantic, thundering beings in person. Old Verbena claimed to have glimpsed a couple when she was a blue-haired young sproutling, but no one believed her.

Her arms extended, Cloudberry posed in the burrow’s entryway. Cloudberry had a pale, pretty face and wispy, shoulder-length blond hair that both her sisters envied. Today, her hair was caught up in a large, colorful head-dress which she had made by wrapping a pink and green floral sash around her head several times. Henbit recognized the sash as one Cloudberry normally wore around her waist. Squinting, she thought she saw six or seven of her best bobby pins holding the thing in place.

Cloudberry flicked a stray tendril of hair from her eyes. Silently, she gazed at the group gathered around the rock.

Mornin’, Cloudy, Bog called. That’s some big hat you got on there.

What’s in there, my pine cone collection? Sweetflag joked.

Very funny, Cloudberry answered, not smiling.

Bog Bilberry studied the pale young frendible with concern. Under the weather today, missy?

No, I’m feeling wonderful. Fresh as the spring rain, as a matter of fact. Cloudberry gave her hand embroidered skirts a little swish. Why do you ask?

Bog shrugged. Couldn’t help noticing them dark circles under your eyes. Been up all night again?

I’m sure I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.

Bog, stop interrogating her, Henbit ordered. Come here, Cloudy, you can peel these since you’re feeling so great. She thrust the handle of her paring knife toward Cloudberry.

Her pretty face puckering, Cloudberry sauntered to Henbit and took the knife. Henbit peered into Cloudberry’s face. She noted her sister’s haggard appearance, but decided to say nothing. Instead, she marched over to her other sister. Leaning over, she put a hand to Sweetflag’s damp forehead.

Just as I suspected, she’s running a fever, she reported with what sounded like satisfaction.

Sweetflag batted the hand away. No, I’m not. Stop treating me like an invalid, Hennie, it’s just a little cold.

I was only trying to help. Henbit sat down beside Sweetflag, the motion forcing a gusty sigh from her lungs. She brushed a damp though carefully styled auburn curl from her face, then tugged at her skirt. Bog Bilberry chuckled and she blushed again.

What we got around here is a case of the same old same old, Pokeweed mumbled at the sky. Same old carrots for lunch… Same old sweltering heat wave that like to kill us… Same old sisters, ever squabbling, ever pervoking one another… Hey. Maybe Tegera got sicka hearing you three squawk.

I never squawk, Cloudberry sniffed. But it would be nice to have something different to eat now and then, wouldn’t it, Poke? Not that your cooking isn’t delicious, Hennie. Picking up a carrot with her free hand, she made a face at the knife in her other. Maybe after lunch I’ll go hunt for some early scuppernongs in the thicket.

I checked there yesterday, Sweetflag said with another wipe of her nose. The deer and raccoons got most of them. What’s left is all dried up and yucky.

Then perhaps I’ll forage some nice red sumac berries, Cloudberry said, an edge of irritation infiltrating her voice.

Not ripe enough.

Then maybe I’ll just give up and go back to bed, Cloudberry snapped.

Good luck getting that thing off your head before you do. And hey, aren’t those Hennie’s bobby pins all up in it?

Can you just shut up? Cloudberry growled, attacking the carrot with her knife.

Sweetflag’s eyes widened and she looked hurt. Did she just tell me to shut up?

Cloudy, always slice away from your body! Henbit blurted, covering her eyes. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you should apologize to your sister. Frendibles aren’t spiteful.

Cloudberry changed the knife’s direction and shrugged. Abruptly, she stopped trying to pare. She broke into a jarringly radiant smile.

Everyone, the most wonderful thought has just occurred to me. What if one of us was to discover some wonderful new plant? Something that’s never been seen before. Something so green, so delicious and fragrant and sweet, with wonderful purple blossoms…

Stop saying ‘wonderful’, Henbit complained.

She didn’t say she was sorry, Sweetflag cut in. Glaring at Cloudberry, she lifted the hem of her T-shirt and loudly blew her nose on it.

Ugh! Cloudberry cried. Hennie, can’t you do something with her?

Flag, stop. Cloudy, what’s the matter with you? Both of you, there’s no excuse for such ugly behavior. Besides, it’s too hot to discover anything. And even if it wasn’t, everything that can be discovered, already has been. Henbit tugged at her own damp collar as if to prove her point.

Now how you know that, Miss Henbit? Bog asked in amazement. And why you wear them stiff heavy clothes in heat like this?

Henbit wrestled the hem of her skirt further over her plump knees. My clothes, she said haughtily, are none of your business. To her annoyance, Bog sat down beside her, his slightly unwashed smell motivating her to edge closer to Sweetflag.

Bog turned to Cloudberry. Cloudy, the plant you’re describing sounds a lot like kudzu, he told her, though it was Henbit he was gazing at.

Kudzu? Cloudberry said, her ill temper evaporating. What in the woods is kudzu?

Bog grinned. I thought that would cheer you up. You keep working and I’ll tell you all about it.

CHAPTER 2

Remember that peddler frendible who was passing through early this year? Bog asked. What was his name? Moonwort? Milkweed?

Spurge, Poke drawled.

Yeah, I remember that guy, Sweetflag huffed. Crabapples, was he ever jumpy. Almost as jumpy as you, Cloudy. And a cheat. I traded him some of my best climbing gear for a backpack that fell apart the day after he left.

And I bartered the last of our pine nuts for a clothesline that snapped the first time I used it, Henbit confirmed.

Cloudberry sighed. But what about my lovely silver key? It certainly didn’t break. It’s my most prized possession. The most exquisite and beautiful object that’s ever come from the human world. I wonder where Spurge got it.

Sweetflag rolled her eyes. If you even look at the thing wrong she goes all crazy.

Bog poked Sweetflag’s arm with his elbow and said, You found out the hard way, didn’t you?

You’d think she would’ve understood I was just borrowing it for the night. I was looking for things to draw. What kind of frendible would put stickers in her sister’s underpants to get even?

It worked, didn’t it? Cloudberry countered. Besides, having you steal something so valuable made me realize how foolish I’d been to keep it out in the open in the first place. Now it’s safely hidden away where no one can find it.

Yeah, under her mattress, Sweetflag muttered.

Cloudberry’s eyes bulged. I thought I told you to stay away from it! she shouted, lunging at Sweetflag who had leaped to her feet.

Henbit jumped up and threw herself between her two sisters. Please! she pleaded. It’s entirely too hot for these kinds of shenanigans!

She started it, Sweetflag accused. And she didn’t apologize to me, and you didn’t make her. Besides, she ought to know by now I don’t care about her stupid key.

Hennie, why does she insist on antagonizing me? Cloudberry put a wrist to her forehead. Why can’t she just leave me alone?

Why can’t she just leave me alone? Sweetflag mimicked in a tragic voice, falling over and thrashing her legs.

Ugh! You’re hopeless! I’m warning you, Flag. Stay out of my room!

Honestly! Henbit’s eyes snapped from one sister to the other. I don’t know why either of you can’t seem to get along or do right. And in the middle of a heat wave! Sometimes I wonder where my real sisters are. You know, the pleasant, industrious ones, the ones that always help out and don’t chafe at my directions… I sometimes think they must have been swapped at sprouting with you two!

Sweetflag and Cloudberry stared at each other, their anger forgotten. What would Henbit’s ‘real sisters’ look like? they wondered. Would they look frowny, lecturing and ridiculous, just like Henbit? Imagining a pine forest full of Henbits, the two sisters burst into giggles.

I’m sorry I was mean, Cloudberry said, catching her breath. Still laughing, Sweetflag nodded.

And just what is so amusing? Henbit demanded.

Nothing, Hennie, nothing. But we’re all right now. Cloudberry’s smile faded as she noticed Bog Bilberry gazing up at her thoughtfully. Avoiding his eyes, she began to flick her hair again.

Stickers in underpants, Bog mused. A stunt like that sounds more like Flag than you, Cloudy. Remember the time she dared Henbit to pick up that roly poly?

Best stunt I ever pulled, Sweetflag agreed, plopping down again next to Henbit.

It was heartless. Henbit shuddered, recalling the incident. Heartless and unforgivable.

I must say I agree with Henbit, Cloudberry said, repinning a small section of her winding headdress which had come loose. "Flag, you really did go too far that time. I’m glad you lost the bet and had to eat the roly poly stew. You know Henbit is petrified of them."

Henbit bristled. I’m not petrified of anything. Repulsed is a better word. Kind of like the way Sweetflag’s untrimmed toenails make me feel. Sweetflag regarded her toes, turning them this way and that.

Cloudberry, what did you trade that peddler to get your lovely silver key, if you don’t mind my asking? Bog inquired, changing the subject before another argument could erupt.

Just look at her blush, Henbit said. I’ll tell you what she traded. She traded not only my new flask of beauty cream that took me days to make, but also my best baby porcupine bristle hair rollers that she stole right off my head while I slept. That’s what she traded for it.

Cloudberry tossed her head. No offense, Hennie, but the beauty cream didn’t seem to be working, and I had heard you tell Old Verbena the very day before that those rollers were stabbing you in the head and you didn’t like them anymore. Besides, Spurge wanted me to have the key. He practically forced me to take it – Cutting herself off, she smoothed her hair and turned back to Bog.

But weren’t you about to tell us all about kudzu? she asked with a disarming smile.

Hard to do with all this thunder and lightning, Bog commented, rubbing his neck.

What do you mean, it’s clear outside, Sweetflag said, looking around.

I meant you three sisters. But okay, back to the story. Spurge… so maybe he wasn’t the most honest feller around. And you’re right, Flag, he did seem to be jumping outa his skin the whole time he was here. But the point is, every night after dinner was over and you three was putting Old Verbena to bed, he was regaling the rest of us with tales of his worldly wanderings.

Henbit crossed her arms. Frendibles don’t roam, it’s not natural.

Bog chuckled. I agree with you there, Miss Henbit. After all, what frendible don’t yearn for a comfortable burrow and the company of his fellers? But this wadn’t no ordinary frendible. Claimed to have traveled the world, he did, seen all kindsa stuff – some of which I prob’ly shouldn’t mention in mixed company.

Good idear, Poke mumbled to the sky as the three sisters looked at each other.

But one thing I will tell you about, Bog went on, is an amazing vine he said he’d run across. Not no ordinary vine like the greenbrier or grapevines or even the ivy we got growing here in our woods and thicket. No, this is a vine so thick and tough that once it gets started, nothing can stop it. And not only that – Bog’s voice lowered as he looked at each of them – it grows faster’n any living thing on earth.

Any living thing on earth? Henbit frowned. How is that possible?

Beats me. But the peddler said it grows a whole possum’s length each and every day of summer. Why, he said he’d actually sat there and watched it grow!

Cloudberry was also frowning. "I wonder